


Back to Your Heart

by dontfretbaby, serohtonin



Series: Unpack My Heart [2]
Category: Glee RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-23
Updated: 2014-07-23
Packaged: 2018-02-10 01:55:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2006607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dontfretbaby/pseuds/dontfretbaby, https://archiveofourown.org/users/serohtonin/pseuds/serohtonin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What happens after two strangers meet by chance and spend six unforgettable days together in Italy?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Back to the Start

**Author's Note:**

> This is a two-part interlude between Unpack My Heart and what will be the sequel. 
> 
> Thanks to our betas on these one shots [Alyssa](http://roblaine.tumblr.com/) & [Mags](http://magsforya.tumblr.com/).
> 
> Finally, a very special thank you to everyone who has given us such tremendously amazing feedback on the first installment of this series. The sequel is not too far away!

**Summer 2009**

Developing a three-act structure is like asking Chris to recite an episode of _The Golden Girls._

It’s a cakewalk.

However, despite his brilliance at the tender age of twenty, here he sits in a lecture hall at the University of Southern California for his screenwriting class. The room is full of overachievers taking summer classes, literally clawing their way to a speedy graduation. Chris doesn’t see himself as one of them though. It’s more like he doesn’t want to go back to Clovis for the summer.

Sure, Hannah was devastated and his mom was disappointed when he broke the news to them a few months ago, but when he promised to visit them on holidays at least, they came around.

But, even if they didn’t, he would still be here. He’s _finally_ in a place where he feels like he belongs, amongst people who share his interests and goals. Why would he want to spend three months trapped in a small town where it’s breaking news when a new Dairy Queen opens around the corner?

The only downside to his summer classes is when he has to pair up with someone for writing workshops. Chris is a loner at heart. He works best at his own pace and when he’s in control. 

Guess his prof didn’t get that memo.

“You’re Colfer, right?”

Chris snaps out of his own thoughts to meet his partner for the day. He’s decked out in plaid with hipster glasses perched on his nose, and he has way too much cologne on.

But he’s cute.

“Yeah, that’s me. I’m Chris,” he reaches out his hand that the other man shakes. “What’s your name?”

“Oh, I’m Levi,” he says, his deep voice almost taking Chris by surprise.

Chris leads him outside the classroom to the hallway and plants himself Indian style on the title floor and Levi does the same. Then, they reach the part that Chris hates, exchanging scripts.

Like most writers, Chris is extremely attached to his work, but _this_ story is so close to his real life that it’s like a piece of his soul spilled out for a stranger to see.

“Here’s my script. It’s still in the developing stages, so be gentle,” Levi laughs, placing his script on Chris’ lap and pulling the script from Chris’ hands. 

“Oh, yeah, mine is too, kind of. Actually, I’ve been wanting to write something like this since last semester, but yeah, it’s a bit personal, so, don’t judge.”

The stumbling nervous laughter that comes out of him brings Chris back to memories of a summer vacation in a foreign country and a gorgeous stranger who wove his way into Chris’ heart.

“No worries. I’ve noticed you in class. You’re really smart so I’m sure this is fantastic.”

Chris doesn’t blush, but he gives him a small smile. “You can say I’m that annoying kid who always raises his hand first for every question. I get that a lot.”

“Totally not what I was going to say.” Levi smiles back, and a warm spot develops in Chris’ belly. “Anyway, we’re supposed to discuss a part of the script that we’re stuck on and use those troubleshooting tips.”

Snapping back to the task at home, Chris shifts into work mode. Levi goes on about his script and Chris tries not to roll his eyes when he calls it a _romance._ Thankfully Levi’s main problem is writer’s block, which Chris knows how to tackle head on. They effortlessly shift to his own work that Chris describes as a coming-of-age story, rather, _his_ story. Chris isn’t exactly having problems with his script though, besides the issues of writing an idealized version of himself, so he makes up something that Levi jumps at the chance to assist on.

Until the end of class, the two keep a simple conversation going, staying on topic of the assignment until Levi overhears the professor announce they’re wrapping up for the day. Chris heads back inside to his seat gathering his things when he feels someone behind him. He turns swiftly and almost knocks Levi down with his backpack.

“Oh, shit. Sorry about that.”

Levi picks the bundle of white paper up off the floor. “Just wanted to give you back your script.”

“Thank you.” Chris smiles apologetically. “It was nice to work with you today. I normally hate group work.”

“I do too, but I was wondering since things went so well today that maybe I could get your number? You could show me that bookstore you mentioned with the amazing Wifi and the quiet rooms. It could help my writer’s block.”

Chris hesitates, not wanting to give this guy the wrong idea, but he seems harmless and he’s always up for meeting new people in town.

“Sure, lemme grab a pen.”

After scribbling his number, they start to walk out of the room together, when Chris hears his professor shout his name.

“I’ll be in touch,” Levi tells him before heading to the door.

Chris turns on his heel back to the long desk in front of the door. Like in high school, Chris is more friendly with his teachers than the students, and Dr. McBride is no exception.

“Why didn’t you send me your latest draft?” 

“It’s not quite done yet, but I’ll get it to you this week. I promise.”

Dr. McBride strolls from behind the desk with a look of _“I’ve heard this before.”_

“Chris, I won’t let you sneak your way out of this contest. Each professor is supposed to submit a piece of work to this thing and I picked you, so if I have to pry that draft from your cold, dead hands I will.”

A sigh escapes his lips. “Fine, but you and I both know I won’t win, so what’s the point?”

“The point is that you tried. When I read your first draft of _Struck By Lightning_ last semester, I was blown away. What you have written could be something really outstanding, but that’ll only happen if you let it. C’mon, send it to me tonight, okay?”

A good pep talk always lights a fire under Chris. “Okay, okay, I will, but if I win, I’m not sharing the prize money with you.” 

“Just thank me in your acknowledgements when the book gets published,” he shouts as Chris leaves the classroom.

He knows his professor is right. He should submit his work to this stupid contest, but that part of him that he refers to Old Chris still fears rejection. _Struck_ is so deeply personal that if he doesn’t win, or at least get second place, it’ll crush him.

Chris knows the stinging pain of rejection far too well. He’s just now recovering from the last time.

**

As he heads back to his dorm, Chris plans to focus on finishing that script and meeting his professor’s set deadline.

He tosses his backpack in the chair in front of his desk on his side of the room. Thankfully, his annoying wannabe frat boy roommate is gone for the evening, so maybe he can actually get work done without being interrupted every five seconds.

However, as soon as Chris sits on his bed and powers up his laptop, he sees a notification for a new e-mail pop up. He can’t help smiling when he realizes it’s from YouTube and not at all related to academics.

It’s from Darren’s channel.

Chris clicks on the link to watch it and is immediately greeted by Darren, dressed in a vest and button down shirt, giving the viewer a quick introduction.

Chris grins, satisfied that Darren still hasn’t cut his hair too short and is, of course, singing a Disney cover.

Darren’s voice is just as mellifluous as Chris remembers when the first notes sound out:

_“Let’s get down to business, to defeat the Huns. Did they send me daughters, when I asked, for sons? You’re the saddest bunch I ever met...”_

Darren’s face is so expressive, a natural showman, putting every ounce of energy into the performance, even though there isn’t any real audience, save for his camera.

Chris wishes he was as comfortable with showing off like that, but he’s slowly learning that his strength lies in quietly letting his work speak for itself.

Darren was the first person outside of his family to show him that maybe his work could be something someday.

Chris likes to think that Darren will be something, too, as his eyes draw to the way Darren’s fingers strum across the strings with such grace, like they always have. 

Chris’ mind is suddenly transported to the Italian bridge where Darren serenaded him for the first time, beginning an amazing week that changed both their lives.

Little did he know that his fantasies during that night would come true and be so much better than he ever imagined.

_“Somehow I’ll, make a man, out of youuu...”_

Chris blankly stares as Darren sings on, and thinks back to gentle touches and sweet promises falling from Darren’s lips that had Chris dangerously hoping for things he would probably never have.

Despite all that, maybe Chris could still be strong and successful, keeping Darren’s encouraging words close to his heart and letting them spur him on to achieve all the accomplishments he wants.

A warm feeling fills Chris’ chest, lingering even when the video ends and Darren jokes onscreen about how he works out to this song.

But Chris is shaken out of it by his phone loudly ringing out:

_“This could mean...dangerrr. I think I’m falling in love, falling in love...”_

“Hello?” Chris answers.

“Hey, it’s Levi, from class,” a vaguely familiar voice greets him.

Chris tries not to let disappointment register in his voice. “Oh, hi.”

“So, anyway, I kinda wanna check out that bookstore with you, if you’re up for it. Tomorrow, maybe?”

Chris glances over to the browser screen still open in front of him, guiltily wondering what Darren would think if Chris said yes.

It’s only a study date, entirely related to class, and he’ll be working on an important creative endeavor. It just happens to be with a cute guy who might be into him. Chris doesn’t have to capitalize on the second part, which he’s probably imagining anyway.

Chris takes a deep breath and replies. “Sure, I’ll be there. What time?”

Levi tells him when he wants to meet and Chris’ heart stutters in his chest as he can practically hear the smile in his voice.

**

Chris will never admit to anyone that he spends the entire next day trying to come up with some excuse to get out of meeting Levi. He texts his friends that are still in town for the summer, but they’re all tied up in things, much to Chris’ disappointment. Chris even calls Melissa, hoping she had some melodrama that could distract him for a few hours and he can use the _“my best friend needs me”_ excuse.

Instead, Melissa pretty much steamrolls Chris into thinking maybe he _should_ go. She even reminds him of a fact that pulverizes him every single time she says it – _“It was almost a year ago, Chris.”_

He rolls his eyes every time she tells him this, but as the days go by, he starts to believe more and more that he should give up on Darren. But, he can’t. How could he?

Those moments with Darren are now precious memories that are plastered over the walls of his dorm. When Chris stared at the photos of he and Darren on that ridiculously beautiful hill overlooking the Italian countryside, they used to quiet his fears and put him at ease. However, they seem to mock him more and more every day.

How could he be so fucking simple-minded?

Chris looks at his bulletin board and unpins Darren’s phone number. It seems like ages ago that he held the number in his hands with the intent to call him. 

The mere memory of it leaves him a demoralized mess, but just like those six unforgettable days, he remembers that time like it was yesterday.

He had imagined dialing Darren’s number a hundred times that Saturday night following their days together and then when he finally punched the number into his freshly-bought cell phone, an unknown female voice answered.

_“IfoundyourphoneDare,” the words tumbled out of the obviously drunken mouth of a woman._

A panicky sensation overcomes him at the flashback just as it did then. Chris freezes in place in his room, letting the memory play out in his head.

_“D-d-d-aaaaarreen, gerrnoff me! Put ‘lothes on and gerrnoff me.”_

_“Fat chance, nuffin’ yous can do boutit. I lobe you.”_

Chris fights back tears as he relives the sound of Darren’s voice, and then the obvious smooching noise he heard after that.

He cried for a week after that twenty seconds of interaction. It took Melissa over a month to get the truth out of him, and once she did, she attempted to rationalize the situation, detailing strange scenarios like, maybe the girl was Darren’s sister who was too drunk to function, or his _favorite,_ maybe Chris didn’t hear what he thought he had heard.

Chris couldn’t believe her, especially since a few weeks before they were supposed to meet again, he had done some research on Darren, who didn’t even have a sister. But Chris did discover that he had a YouTube channel, and various profiles that Chris bookmarked quickly. In those days, he discovered that Darren’s dream of a Harry Potter parody came true and that it was slowly but surely gaining ground. 

Like Chris suspected, his Facebook and Twitter had been filled with pictures and statuses about how _awesome_ his life is – without Chris.

There was no way in hell Chris was going on the trip. At a weak moment, he looked at plane ticket costs, and contemplated emptying his bank account. Then on the day they were supposed to meet, he noticed that Darren had tweeted about spending the week in New York with his brother.

He didn’t even plan to fucking show.

Chris rips the phone number into tiny pieces, kicking himself for letting Darren get under his skin, even now.

It’s then that he realizes that Melissa is right.

It was almost a year ago.

Time to move on.

He plucks his bulletin board off his wall, and tosses it into the big trash bin in their room, wanting no visible trace that Darren had even been part of his life.

Levi may not be his soulmate, or even Mr. Right Now, but after everything he’s been through, he deserves to give it a try.

The last time he tried, it changed his life.

It could happen if he begins again. 


	2. Back to Your Heart

**Spring 2012**

“You haven’t moved from that spot in two days, Dare.”

“’S comfortable. Think I earned a couple days rest, Joey,” Darren mumbles, laying face down against the couch cushions in the living room of their apartment.

“We all have after the crazy awesome success of the ‘Starship’ tour, but I think it’s time we celebrate being back home in Chicago. Maybe you should call Sarah, let her know you’re in town.”

Darren lifts his head enough to speak properly. “Her name’s Rebecca. Been seeing her since right before we left almost a year ago. How could you forget her name?”

“Right, because you bring her here _so often_. I only met her maybe three or four times, man.”

Joey is always like this when Darren is dating. He’s not sure if it’s jealousy because Joey has never found the right person, and because Joey’s a romantic, much like Darren used to be. 

“Meh, don’t wanna move. Where’s my guitar?”

Joey sits on the arm of the chair by Darren’s feet. “Oh, no. You’re not working.”

“Who said I was working? I just wanna play some tunes, man.”

“I know you. You wanna start writing again.”

“I want my guitar,” Darren practically whines. “We can see what happens from there.”

“I get that you’re eager to get back to your own stuff, what with the stalling on the record deal--”

“It’s not stalling. I want that shit to be perfect and not some image-driven fabrication of what they want me to be.”

“Yeah, yeah. Everyone says that, but you have to know after trying for so many years that image fucking sells, whether you like it or not.”

Truly, Darren could’ve had a record deal three years ago when the first Potter musical was more successful than anyone ever expected. He wants to do things on his own terms. Darren put out an EP, independently of course, and that gave him an idea that fans actually wanted to hear what he had to say. 

The success of that only made the record labels press harder, and Darren find more and more excuses to ignore their phone calls.

“Will you two stop arguing like some chicks? Some of us are dealing with a hangover,” Joe shouts entering the room.

“A hangover you wouldn’t have if you didn’t try and drink an entire bottle of Don Julio,” Darren struggles to his feet to grab his guitar. “Ah, ah, ah,” Joey scolds, slapping Darren’s forearm. “What did I say about working?”

“I’m not--” Darren pouts.

“You are a liar, Darren Criss,” Joey tells him.

“Transparent as fuck,” Joe adds.

Darren looks over at Joe. “Didn’t know you knew such big words.”

“I’m hungover, I’m not stupid, Dare.” Then, Joe glances between his two friends, and addresses Joey. “If he wants to work, let him. I’ll take some aspirin and suffer through it. He’s miserable without his guitar. Remember that time he popped a string and couldn’t fix it for days?”

“Yeah, he walked around the apartment intentionally singing off-key twenty-four-seven.”

Darren chimes in with, “Guys, I’m right here.”

“We know,” they both say simultaneously.Relationships are always weird for Darren.

Either he gives too much or he gives next to nothing, but with Rebecca it’s strangely somewhere in the middle.

Rebecca is the female version of tall, dark and handsome. She’s the type of girl who only wears floral print and crop tops, who comes to a party with something that took all day to coordinate, but says, _“Oh, I just put this together.” ___

She’s fun, super-duper chill, and Darren likes that, but she’s so together – sometimes too together.

His friends, well, maybe just Joey, say she’s boring, but maybe that’s what Darren needs right now. They met right before the ‘Starship’ tour a year ago, and everyone told him how it was a terrible idea to start dating someone then, but Darren obviously didn’t listen. However, to his surprise Rebecca was completely okay with being away from him, and didn’t act clingy at all when he was gone. Rebecca has only been to a handful of shows, but she doesn’t make it a priority.

Darren is genuinely surprised to see her when he’s getting ready for his gig at the coffee shop, but then again they haven’t seen each other in months.

“Hey, you made it out,” Darren says, approaching her table and leaning over to give her a small peck. “It’s good to see you.”

“Of course, I wouldn’t miss it. I did miss you a _little_ , y’know.”

She smiles, running her fingers through his curls, then she frowns. “I thought you were going to get a haircut.”

“I did, sort of. Can’t you tell the curls are more tame?”

Rebecca rolls her eyes, and leans back against her chair to size him up. “I’m just saying that maybe it’s time for a change, honey. Remember when I got blonde highlights? I was so scared, but hey!” She does a mini-hair flip. “Look at it now. It made me feel like a new woman.”

Darren tries to hide his surprise, because honestly, he didn’t notice that she had changed her hair.

“Maybe you’re right,” he mumbles, then perks up when he sees his friends enter the shop. “Hey, guys over here!”

He hears a brief sigh from Rebecca, and Darren knows why. It’s not that she doesn’t get along with his friends. She just… _doesn’t_ get along with his friends.

“Nice crowd you got here, bro,” Joey says, surveying the sea behind them of teenage girls slowly filling the tiny coffee shop within the bookstore. “Glad you know your demographic.”

“Fuck you, dude, I’m excited for this. Don’t ruin it for me.”

“Ignore him. He’s grumpy that we didn’t stop at the deep dish pizza place on the walk over here,” Lauren interjects, sitting at the table. “Hey, Becky, how have you been?”

Darren cringes as he witnesses Rebecca’s eyebrow rise. “It’s _Rebecca_ , and I’m great, _Laura_. How are you?”

Lauren laughs off her faux pas. “She’s a razor blade, Dare. Very sharp.”

Rebecca leans over to interweave her fingers with Darren and smiles. “Your friends are always fun.”

“They’re alright,” Darren grumbles as his friends slowly shift to another table toward the front. Once they are gone, he says, “C’mon. Be nice, please.”

“Me? Darren, we’ve been dating for almost a year now and they _still_ don’t know my name.”

Darren’s eyes bug out, comprehending that timeline.

_Has it been that long? ___

“They’re just fucking with you, babe. Don’t take it personally.”

She mutters something about Darren always taking their side, but then she drops it, thankfully, which gives him time to get back to preparing for the show. He heads to the back and chats with the owners, getting the lowdown on how long they expect them to play, and as always, the answer is however long he wants.

He takes the small stage and plays one of his usual Disney covers to start, and then a couple of Starkid tunes to please those who are probably just checking him out as a solo act for the first time. After that, he switches it up and plays one of the songs from his EP, smiling at the applause of the crowd, which is a modest following of a few regulars mixed in with the fans he’s garnered from the tour and his mild success as a solo artist (The _Human_ EP piqued at seventy-five on the iTunes Indie charts, but Darren still counts that as an achievement).

Darren strums his guitar lazily and introduces his next original song.

“Okay, so, guys, next I’m gonna debut a little thing I’ve been working on for a while. Obviously, no one’s heard it, so if it sucks, please be gentle,” Darren chuckles, “and by gentle, I mean you should lie and pretend it’s great. Or just, don’t say anything. Y’know, it’s kinda funny that I tend to ramble because this song is all about not being able to find the right words to express yourself, and since many of you have been so supportive of me, and of Starkid--”

Lauren whoops from the crowd, along with Brian and Joe.

“Some of them are here tonight,” Darren continues and gestures toward his friends. “It’s cool, you guys, steal my thunder all you like.”

“Dude, you always steal ours,” a voice that sounds like Joey hollers.

“Anyway,” Darren starts again. “We are all so appreciative of that support, because otherwise, we wouldn’t have experienced even half of the success that we have, and thank you so, so much from the bottom of our hearts. Well, mine, at least, so yeah.”

Then, after a teenage girl yells, “I love you, Darren,” from the crowd, he closes his eyes and starts to sing.

_“I could write books in my sleep without thinkin’ too deep. I could speak for a hundred days.”_

He clearly just did that, somehow entirely avoiding that he was about to sing a sappy love song. Darren couldn’t bear to point that out because that wasn’t his style and he had written the lines way before Rebecca even came along.

_“I could write you a poem Shakespeare or Cole woulda called their own, but everything changes now that you’re mine, and all of my words are left behind...”_

He scans the crowd and locks eyes with Rebecca for a brief second as he continues singing, but then he looks away guiltily, an image of a fresh-faced teenage boy named Chris flashing in his head.

_“Just wanna tell you I love you. It’s the hardest thing to say. I’ll turn my head upside down, tryin’ to find some kinda way...”_

Darren had known the moment he saw him that Chris would be someone special in his life. They instantly clicked as if they known each other for years, which had never happened before, or since, with anyone else. Darren had wanted to say those three words the very night they met, but he thought it was too soon and needed to be careful about it. But, then he never ended up saying them at all, and still, Chris had a piece of Darren’s heart after all these years.

He continues on and nearly loses it toward the end of the song, so he isn’t really sure how he transitions into the next more upbeat number, but somehow, he does, wearing the performance face he knows so well.

He makes it through the rest of the show solely by feeding on the crowd’s energy, and by the end, he’s more exhausted than he’s ever felt in a long time, even more so than he was during the tour.

Rebecca rushes over to him as soon as he steps off the stage, followed shortly by Darren’s friends.

“You were amazing as always, baby,” she murmurs in his ear after her arms wrap around his waist tightly.

It’s almost suffocating.

“Yeah, it was great, Dare. Cool new stuff. Almost coulda been written for someone who really knows how to use words effectively?” Joe comments, arching an eyebrow.

Rebecca turns toward them, still holding Darren. “Yeah, like me. I _am_ a news reporter.”

“Right,” Joe replies, quickly changing the subject. “So, are we gonna do anything now that the show’s over?”

“Yeah, Meredith just texted me asking where the afterparty is. Can we do it at your place?” Lauren asks to no one in particular.

Never in his twenty-five years on this planet has Darren turned down a reason to party. He celebrated his half birthday until a few years ago for no other reason than to get drunk and make bad choices. But something is off tonight. He wants nothing more than go home and lay in his bed, _alone_.

“Nah, not at our place. Our neighbors already hate us,” Darren chimes in, hoping that excuse is good enough.

“How ‘bout at my apartment,” Rebecca asks. “My roommate has some sorority sisters that are in town. I’m sure they’d be down for a little get together.”

Darren hears Joe whisper to Joey about _sorority girls_ , and he knows there’s no way he can get out of this one.

“That sounds fucking fantastic,” Joe says, throwing his arm around Rebecca’s shoulder. “Y’know, I’ve always liked you. Show us the way.”

Darren gives Joey credit for at least getting her name right, even though he knows the only reason he’s putting on the charm is in hopes of getting laid. He doesn’t blame him, though. There was a time when that’s all Darren thought about. 

Looking up and down at his attractive girlfriend, he can’t remember the last time they had sex. Maybe a month ago? Before a show, perhaps? He shakes off the questions, knowing it doesn’t matter. If he wanted it, he could get it, but uncharacteristically, that is the last thing on his mind right now.

Darren gently grabs Rebecca’s arm to pull her aside before they walk out the door. “I’m going to head home first. I gotta get out of these sweaty clothes.”

She pouts, looking at Darren’s friends, and then back at him. “Don’t leave me alone with them. They’ll eat me alive.”

Darren laughs, “You’ll be fine. Tell them I’ll be right there.”

Rebecca grabs the collar of Darren’s shirt and pulls him into a kiss. It isn’t long before she pulls him closer and deepens it. Darren goes along with it and wraps his arms around her tiny waist, despite his stomach turning with the wrongness of it.

The hoots and hollers from his friends give him an excuse to break away and tell her, “I’ll text you when I leave my apartment, ’kay?”

“Fine. Oh, by the way, I absolutely _love_ that new song, and just so you know, I love you, too.” Rebecca kisses him once more, then meets up with the group, not waiting for Darren to respond any further, affirmatively or otherwise.

_Fuck._

Darren freezes as the crisp Chicago wind hits his face. That is totally not the reaction he was expecting. As he turns on his heel in the opposite direction, he tries to think of ways to get out of this one. It’s not that he doesn’t have feelings for Rebecca. He just isn’t sure if he’s capable of really loving anyone right now.

He knew he was too emotional during that song. He’s typically much better at keeping his feelings under control, but he just couldn’t during “Words.” 

It’s been _years_ since Italy and that boy on the train.

He should be over it by now, but apparently he isn’t.

He shakes it off and heads down the train tunnel, hoping that will cut some of his travel time. Meanwhile, Darren prays that his friends don’t drive Rebecca up a wall.

The underground buzz of Chicago always gets Darren going. The sounds of a homeless guy beating on a few small trash cans to the back and forth of people coming and going from the train remind Darren why he chose to call this place home after college.

Darren reaches into his pocket to grab a spare dollar to put into the man’s hat. “Killer beat, man.”

He nods, then goes back to his miniature jam session. Darren starts to walk away, but then an advertisement on a pillar in front of him stops him in his tracks.

He notices a picture of a man who looks vaguely like Chris, _his_ Chris, except his face is slimmer and his shoulders are broader, making him appear twenty times more gorgeous than the last time they were face-to-face.

Darren concludes that it’s him when he reads what’s underneath the photo: _Chris Colfer, author of the new children’s book The Land of Stories: The Wishing Spell_.

Then, there’s a few sentences summarizing the plot that centers around twins Connor and Alex who fall into a fairy tale world and have amazing adventures with many beloved and familiar characters.

“Holy shit,” Darren exclaims under his breath. “That fucking bastard did it.”

He couldn’t believe Chris’ dream had come true in only four short years, and that Darren hadn’t been by his side to witness it. The advertisement says he will be in Chicago in two weeks for a book signing at the Barnes & Noble that isn’t too far from his apartment.

Darren shakes his head at the thought. Not like he would show up, especially after everything that happened.

He remembers being fucking ecstatic as he sent out a quick tweet before he hopped the flight to Venice in May 2009, lying that he’d be in New York so that most of his friends and family wouldn’t mock him for being a romantic idiot (he had only told Chuck his true plans). Then, he remembers pacing at the top of the Campanile di San Marco for hours, _alone_ , wondering how Chris could possibly back out of their plans after all they had been through. He had rationalized it by thinking maybe Chris had met someone else and couldn’t bear to contact him, in person or by phone. Darren’s heart started to fracture then, and had never really recovered since.

Could he really put himself through seeing Chris now and being rejected all over again?

Darren contemplates it, in such a funk that he barely catches his train home.

He steps off the platform and walks into his apartment on auto pilot. However, instead of changing his clothes, he powers up his laptop and searches _Chris Colfer_ on Google.

The first link he clicks on is from a news article from not too long ago. He skims through it as it details how after graduating from college, early, Chris published his first novel from an adaptation of his senior thesis project titled _Struck by Lightning_ , which became a _New York Times_ best-seller, and is now possibly on its way to becoming a film. Then, there’s a brief mention of a nationwide tour for his new book, _The Land of Stories: The Wishing Spell_.

Darren’s breath catches in his throat.

Chris had actually become the successful author he planned since childhood; it’s everything Chris had wanted for himself, and what Darren had wanted for Chris since they had met.

“He really did it,” Darren can’t stop himself from proclaiming aloud, his eyes threatening to well with tears of pride.

He swallows it down with a bitter taste in his mouth just a moment later, realizing that this boy still owns every single one of Darren’s feelings.

“Fuck,” he mutters, suddenly not wanting to join his friends, and his oblivious girlfriend, at a celebration sort of honoring Darren himself.

He strips down to his boxers and lays in bed, sending Rebecca a quick text that he’s not feeling too well.

Technically, he isn’t lying; he feels like shit. A mix of emotions from regret to anger. The Google search version of Chris is far from the adorable boy he knew who had fumbled on every word. This guy’s a big shot, a real game changer in the literature world probably. Meanwhile, Darren’s the same person that he was four years ago. He’s still living in a packed apartment, writing parody musicals with his college buddies. Sure, they have a following, but that’s _nothing_ compared to having a national publishing backing.

He can’t even sign the fucking dotted line on a record deal.

Chris, on the other hand, took life by the balls and made it his own, just like Darren had encouraged him to do, which only leaves Darren falling harder and longing to see the man that Chris has become in person.

Darren sighs, feeling stupid for thinking he could move on from a man who somehow managed to show up in his life yet again.

**

After a week of trying to avoid Rebecca, Darren ran out of excuses. Eventually, he broke things off with her one night at her apartment. She cried. He cried, too, but for completely different reasons.

The day after, Darren is permanently glued to his couch, watching terrible reality T.V. shows. It takes a good ten hours before someone says something.

“Seriously, dude, you gotta get your ass up. You are depressing as shit sitting there. You look like you have a case of the Mondays, and it’s Friday. Let’s do something!”

Darren doesn’t even look at Joey as he talks, just continues to focus on the television in front of him. He’s quiet until Joey snatches the remote from his hand.

“What the hell? Gimme ‘dat back.”

“Not until you get up, or at least move to the other side of the couch,” Joey says.

Just to be an asshole, Darren scoots over to the other side and leans against the cushion pretending to sleep. A smile is on his face until Joey smacks his across the face with a pillow.

“Stop the violence, Joey. It isn’t helping me.”

Joey takes a seat in the lump that Darren left on the couch. “What the fuck can I do? You left here yesterday saying you were going to break up with Becca and then you come back like a depressed monk. What did she do to you?”

“It’s not her.”

“Then, what? I know you two dated for a while, but you didn’t seem to be into her that much.”

Darren sighs. That fact hurts because he really _wasn’t_ that into her, but he had strung her along like a jerk.

“I didn’t. I tried, oh, how I tried, but it wasn’t right. It hadn’t been right, like, ever.”

The state of his personal life is almost as depressing as the lives of the wannabe celebrities he’s been watching all afternoon. At least they have fame and fortune. Darren has neither.

“What are you talking about? You’ve had a girlfriend since _forever_. Dare, you aren’t single for more than a month, if that.” Joey grips.

“Joey, just because you have that relationship title doesn’t mean anything. I hate being alone. We both know that.”

The thought of being alone always brings him back to that summer in Italy when he paced the streets looking for something, better yet someone, that he believed was so real. 

Darren isn’t sure what’s real anymore. 

Rebecca is the picture perfect girl, and everything that Darren should want. However, the moment he sees _his_ face, his world is turned upside down yet again. The agony of the entire situation is eating him alive.

“Do you remember that guy I told you about that I met during my study abroad?”

Joey thinks for a second before saying, “Oh, yeah, you didn’t stop talking about him for a good while after that.” He laughs. “We all thought you were going through a midlife crisis back then. I mean you’ve always been an open opportunist so to speak, but never real feelings and shit.”

Darren chuckles at the fact that “real feelings and shit” is such an understatement.

“I’ve never told any of you guys before, and it’s so fucking embarrassing that I promised myself I would never admit to it, but right after graduation when I told everyone I went to New York to see my brother, I actually went to go see him again and--”

“You what?” Joey shouts. “Why didn’t you tell me? What happened? Well, tell me the PG version of what happened. I also remember you whispering his name in your sleep for a long time after that summer as well.”

“He never showed,” Darren’s voice is low and safe with tears swimming his eyes. “He never fucking showed and I flew all the way across the country, across a fucking _ocean,_ back to Italy to see him.”

Darren can’t bear to turn and see the probably judgemental expression Joey’s making as he dashes his tears away. It isn’t the first time they’ve cried in front of each other, but it sure is the first time they’ve done so sober.

The sudden tension makes Darren want to run to his room, but then Joey engulfs him into a bear hug and that causes scalding tears to begin to ooze down his cheeks.

“I’m sorry, man. I can’t imagine going through that, especially when you had to come back home and act like nothing happened. You’re a better actor that I fucking thought.”

Laughing through the pain of his tears pricking his eyes, Darren takes a few deep breaths as the memory of that day tears at his soul.

“Thanks, Joey,” he whispers, his voice hoarse from the large lump in his throat. Darren can feel his tearstained face alter to a shade of pink when Joey finally lets go of him.

“So, what brought this all on? Because that was years ago. Was it breaking up with Becca?”

Darren shakes his head. “No, I saw a picture of him last week. He’s coming in town for a book signing in a few days and I felt all this shit I thought I’d forgotten.”

“He’s, like, an author now or something?”

Darren nods.

“Shit,” Joey says in a hush tone. “You gotta go.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Darren says, finally looking at Joey. “After everything I _just_ told you? That is the worst fucking idea you’ve ever come up with.”

“First off, my idea to heat up something wrapped in aluminium foil was my worst idea ever. I almost burnt down your parent’s house. Second, what do you mean? You have to go. Don’t you wanna know why he didn’t show?”

The idea had been tossed back and forth in Darren’s head for years, but he never thought what it would be like to know the real reason. Does he even want to know?

“O-of course it would be nice, but I don’t know what I would even say to him. I mean, what if he doesn’t remember me? The week we spent together is probably hidden deep inside his mind somewhere locked away forever.”

“Darren, if you’re having all of these emotions for him four _years_ after seeing him, then it’s pretty safe to say whatever the hell you guys had was special. I seriously doubt he’s forgotten. I think you’re just scared.”

“Wouldn’t you be?” Darren snaps back.

“Fuck yeah, I would be, but this is your second chance. You have to take it or you are going to wonder for the rest of your life what if. You don’t wanna live like that, dude.”

Joey is rarely, and Darren knows _rarely_ , good at giving advice, but in this instance, Darren is starting to believe that he’s right.

“I’ll think about it.”

“Thank God,” Joey shouts, getting to his feet. “Now, I am going to take a shower and you should too. We are getting some fresh air and you can tell me more about loverboy.”

“Chris,” Darren says. “His name is Chris.”

Joey smiles at him. “Chris it is.”

When Darren hears the water running, he struggles to his feet and makes the long walk to his bedroom, thinking about all of the possibilities of seeing Chris again.

What will Darren say to him? How will Chris react? Does Chris even feel anything for Darren anymore?

Darren doubts it. Chris has probably written off his experience with Darren as some post-adolescent fling, and used it to move on to someone he could realistically settle down with, someone as sharp-witted and brilliant as Chris himself.

But the only way to know for sure is to actually show up at the book signing.

He hopes it doesn’t mean the end for he and Chris, but rather a new beginning.

A phrase suddenly pops into Darren’s head:

_The end never seemed like it was good enough_

And then another:

_What about the love, what about the old obsessions we fell into when they were new?_

“Shit. Gotta write this down. This could be a good song.”

He hears the water shutting off and yells to Joey, “Can I take a rain check on that chat? I just thought of a song idea.”

Joey opens the bathroom door and yells back in exasperation, “Seriously? Dude, you _always_ do this.”

“It’s important,” Darren returns. “I promise I’ll talk to you later.”

Joey sighs audibly. “Fine. I won’t let you sneak out of it, no matter how late you get done.”

“ ‘Kay. I’m totally alright with that. Just gimme me a few hours.”

Darren doesn’t wait to hear Joey’s response and instead scribbles furiously on a piece of scrap paper he finds on an end table, thinking about the boy on the train all those years ago.

_I got one more part for the storybook/One more road that I shoulda took/ One more thing that used to have my heart/ I got one more place in my memory when I wished with every part of me I could go back to the start_

Despite all the hurt, Darren wouldn’t have changed a damn thing. He still would have approached Chris and shown him an awesome time in Italy, including all the laughter, the love, and even the fights.

He just wishes he could start over.

Maybe seeing Chris again will be his chance to do it.


End file.
